Sunday, June 15, 2014

Well that was a complete waste of time. Oh, not the movie itself... but then again (its merits as a quality piece of entertainment are still up in the air). Extremely curious to know who provided the voice of Virginia, the talking vagina in Tom DeSimone's Chatterbox!, I just spent at least three whole minutes looking for the name of the actress, or I should say, cuntress who... Get it, she plays a talking cunt. (Actually, as your imaginary lawyer, I don't think you should say that.) Ah, what do you know? People love it when I use the c-word, it makes their genitals hard and/or wet. Anyway, you know what my three minutes of research uncovered? Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Ingenting. нищо. On the bright side, I did just watch a film about a talking vagina. Now, was it a good talking vagina movie? You see, that's the question everyone who watches this movie ultimately ends up asking themselves when the film is finally over. I mean, we all secretly wish that every movie in existence featured a character with a talking vagina. Seriously, think about the last four or five movies you watched. Are you thinking about them? Good. Now, imagine how much better they all would be if they had a character with a chatty cooch. You can't deny that a leggy blonde with a garrulous gash makes everything more appetizing. ("Chatty cooch," "garrulous gash," it's going to be one of those reviews, ain't it?) Hey, you put a talking vagi... Scratch that, this is what you get when you shove a loquacious labia movie in my fully conscious face for seventy minutes. In other words, let the beef curtain-based alliteration abuse begin.

What's that? You say I've already exhausted the bulk of my vocal-vagina couplings. We'll see about that. Just kidding, I have no intention of seeing about that.

No, what I would like to do now is complain about the fact that we never once see the prattling poon at the centre of this vulvical farce move its pussy lips.

I mean, it's 1977, Deep Throat came out five years ago, porno chic is still all the rage, so let's see some flapping lady parts all up in this cinematic cubbyhole. Ugh. (What's wrong?) Nothing. (C'mon, you can tell me.) I don't know, I could have sworn I heard someone sitting in the balcony say that I should "use my imagination." Well, first off, shut your stinkin' trap, I'm trying to think of new ways to pair verbal words with vaginal words. And secondly, no, I will not use my imagination.

I'm not asking for them to show graphic close up shots of Virginia, the communicative clitoris, jawing away in an animated fashion. All I wanted was a medium shot that let me know that her outspoken hatchet wound was the one doing the talking. For all I know, Penelope Pittman (Candice Rialson) could have just been a beautiful schizophrenic with super-mad ventriloquism skills.

I hate to be the one to bring this up, but why did the vagina attached to Penelope Pittman start talking? (It's hard to do a talking vagina movie without a talking vagina.) No, I realize that. But why did it start talking when it did? What prompted her lavender-laced jizz jar to start jibber-jabbering? I have a feeling her vaginal voice was always there, it just didn't have anything to say up until now. That is, until the pathetic penis belonging to Ted (Perry Bullington), her tennis-playing boyfriend, decided to stick its helmet-like tip all up in Penny's lady business.

Unimpressed by the quality of the pipe he was laying, Virginia, the name of Penny's fornication fuselage, says, "You call that a fuck?" after an exhausted Ted collapses on top of Penelope. Tired of being on the receiving end of wonky thrusts night after night, Virginia decides to put her cunt down and demand that Penny fuck better cock. Thinking Penelope is the one who is insulting his prowess as a lover, he storms off in a huff (tripping several times as he does so - on top of being a shitty lover, he's a clumsy oaf).

The next day at the hair salon she works, Penny tries to explain to Ted what happened over the phone. But how do you go about telling your boyfriend that your genitals think you suck in bed? At any rate, before Penny can finish her explanation, her boss comes in. Anyone care to guess who plays Penny's boss? That's right, it's none other than Rip Taylor! What's weird about Rip Taylor's entrance was the fact that he didn't throw glitter on anybody. I'm not saying I felt ripped off, I'm just saying it was weird, that's all.

Screw Rip Taylor, would you look at what Candice Rialson is wearing. Or, I should say, not wearing. I love a gal who basically says: Fuck it, I ain't wearing pants today. And it looks like Penelope Pittman is having one of those days, as her legs are on full display.

The other great thing about Penny's skimpy outfit is that every time she shrugged her shoulders we got a glimpse of her panties. Yay! Glimpsed panties!

Would any actress today wear something like this in a movie? I don't think so. They all have this kooky notion in their heads they're going to be the next Meryl Streep. So, here's to you, Candice Rialson, for making the hair salon sequence in Chatterbox!, the world's first R-rated talking vagina movie, one of the most appealing things I've seen all year.

Confiding in a co-worker (Cynthia Hoppenfeld), Penny tries to get Virginia to talk for her. But Virginia is surprisingly tight-lipped when confronted.

And I don't think yelling at it is helping matters, lady. So, do you mind getting your face out of my junk? No, this is one quiet queef-maker. Oh, and I dug the way the co-worker casually snapped Penny's panties back into place after coming up empty in the babbling baby-maker department.

Keep an eye on Candice Rialson during the salon sequence, not only is she sexy, she has quite the gift for physical comedy. In a veiled attempt to muzzle her chattering box, Candice walks with her legs together. While she manages to muffle the sound of her verbose vag to some degree, on the other hand, it looks like she needs to go the toilet.

When a client named Marlene (Arlene Martel), a classy dyke with huge sunglasses, catches a whiff of Penny's frequently exposed panties while climbing the stairs, it sets her taciturn yet voracious vagina on fire. However, since Marlene knows that Penny doesn't swing that way, she keeps her pussy juice on ice. Yeah, Penny isn't into chicks, but Virginia seems open to the idea, and starts flirting with Marlene the moment Penny starts working on her hair.

One thing leads to another, and Marlene's black stocking-adorned gams are straddling Penny/Virgina on a nearby sofa. It's an odd scene. Mainly because Penny is being raped, but Virginia is egging Marlene on (her mind is saying no, but her pussy is saying yes). Luckily, Rip Taylor interrupts them before things get too out of hand. Oh, and if you look closely, you'll notice that the strap on one of Penny's shoes came undone during the girl-on-girl cunt kerfuffle.

At her wits' end, Penny decides (much to Tom Cruise and Jenna Elfman's future chagrin) to go see a psychiatrist. Showing Dr. Pearl (Larry Gelman) her cacophonous crevice, Penny hopes he can help her with her unique problem. When the shrink hears Virginia's singing voice, he sees dollar signs.

Realizing that Penny's singing pussy needs to be seen to be believed, Dr. Pearl, who is now her manager, straps her to a table, puts a microphone up to Virginia's mouth, and has her perform "Old Folks at Home" for the A.M.A. (The American Medical Association).

It was at this point that I started to miss the light-hearted charm of the hair salon sequence. The film starts to overstay its welcome fast, as some scenes seem to drag on unnecessarily.

Everything that occurs after Candice Rialson struts down the streets of Hollywood late at night in white cut-off jean shorts and a purple top pretty much resembles your typical showbiz success story, as Penny grows tired of fame, while Virginia loves the spotlight. This dichotomy is best observed during her performance of "Wang Dang Doodle" on some lame talk show. It's clear that Penny would rather being washing hair at Rip Taylor's salon than be on national television with her cooter exposed.

It should be noted that the film manages to employ three solid "cunt gags." The first being the one where Dr. Pearl calls a talent agent and gets the reply: "You called me to listen to some cunt sing the Star-Spangled Banner?" The second occurs when a director tells a reporter that, "This is not the first film to star a real cunt." And the third, and my personal favourite, takes place when a stagehand yells, "Stop that cunt!" as Penny, with Virginia in tow, flees the set of a movie featuring men dressed as peacocks.